What he did not count on
by ssserpensssotia
Summary: What is the best way to drive your enemy nuts? Harry Potter thinks he knows. Unfortunatelly for him, he is not the only one. No slash. Warning- parody.


**Disclaimer-** everything belongs to JKR.

This is a translation of a fanfic written by **Assidi **who gave her permission to translate and post it here. The original you can read here **www. hogwartsnet. ru** ( fanfic title **"Не учел" **)**,** that is if you know Russian. LOL

**Nerys** decided to help poor Serpie out and actually beta this fic.

**A/N** yes, yes, Serpie should be updating New Colors of Life, but instead she is writing and translating parodies. I'll update Colors soon, no worries, but in the mean time you could also take a look at the best Tom/Hermione story ever written by me and Nerys. It's called **"Mary and Gary go to Hogwarts": www. fanfiction. net /s/ 4210964/ 1** (without the spaces) and it's under shared profile "Nerys and Sssserpensssotia". Muhahahaha...

Cheers!

Read the story till the end and remember it's a parody!! snickers

On with the story!

* * *

**What he did not count on.**

...Her name was Sarah. She had innocent blue eyes with long black trembling eyelashes and silky golden hair styled in two braids. Sarah looked like a Christmas angel, who was mistakenly brought into the downbeat, gloomy orphanage in the suburb of London.  
Tom Riddle saw her passing in the hallway when Sarah had just arrived with a grumpy old hag and a chump, sulky man in tow. The girl was very sad and didn't seem to notice anybody around her.

Tom, however, noticed her immediately. Although he was only ten years old, he could already tell the difference between an ugly and a pretty girl. When the said girl along with her escort was taken to Mrs. Cole's office, Tom remained standing on the same spot, enchanted, unable to move a step.

She did not come to the dining room that day nor the next day, having cried all night in her room. Tom found out about it when he decided to visit her after dinner. She told him that her parents had been killed in a car crash and her evil uncle and aunt occupied her family's apartment and placed her into the orphanage.

"You have nothing to be afraid of anymore, Sarah," Tom said. "I'll be protecting you from now on"

"Do you really mean it?" the girl asked and finally smiled through her tears. Sarah's smile was like a glimpse of Sun after a very long rain.

Tom kept his word and did not let anybody hurt the girl. All their free time they spent together. He would help her with studies; she, in return, gave him a ­­­­­­­­­­ blue-eyed, white, fluffy, kitten, which she found in the street. Nobody ever dared to hurt them, leave alone make fun of them. Once, a very insolent boy from the orphanage called them "Husband and wife!"

The very same evening a heavy bookshelf fell on the boy's head, even though Mrs. Cole could have sworn that it couldn't have fallen by itself.

However, their happiness did not last for long – in the autumn Sarah got violently sick. She had pseudo membranous inflammation, or diphtheria. Tom had tried sneaking into the infirmary ward, but he wasn't allowed.

A beautifully garnished coffin was standing in the orphanage's hallway a couple of days later. Everybody - the children and even some of the adults - were afraid to come closer to the coffin; everybody except for Tom who wept over his loss. From dawn till sunset, Tom wailed all by himself. Through his salty tears he repeated over and over again his vow to find a way to conquer death itself.

XXX

…They were standing on top of the Astronomy Tower. The wind was tousling her deep- brown hair and her blue with bronze scarf. His face was as white as the snow lying on the rampart; his stare was as cold as the starlight in the frosty sky.

"Tom," the girl whined, "it's not true! I never kissed him; I love only you, Tom!"

"Are you telling me that Lestrange was hallucinating?" Tom asked with an unpleasant smirk on his pale face. "He saw with his own eyes how you cuddled up with that Johnny-come-lately in the library!"

"Tom, please don't!" The girl sobbed.

"I've tolerated that behavior of yours for too long a time," Tom continued as if he was not hearing the girl at all.

"I've put up with you befriending Mudbloods and I've been tolerant to your disagreement with my ideas about the pure-blood's domination, but when you started flirting with such a trash…."

"He's not trash!" The girl could not restrain her temper anymore. "He's my classmate!"

"Wonderful, wonderful…," Tom drawled, and there was rage in his voice.

"I, the Heir of Salazar Slytherin and the future Dark Lord, have allowed you, an ill-bread and poor witch with no ancestry, to stand by my side! And what did you do? You chose some piece of trash over me!"

The girl managed to free herself from Tom's grasp and ran to the wall. She was shaking badly.

"You're too full of yourself, the Heir of Slytherin!" the girl screamed. "You think I don't know who's behind all those little dirty tricks on Muggle-borns? You think I have no idea whatsoever as to who opened the Chamber of Secrets? You're so vain of your ancestry, while everybody in Hogwarts knows that you're only a half-blood!"

Tom smiled ominously and pointed his yew wand at the girl. The girl laughed hysterically.

"You won't scare me, Riddle!"

"I wasn't planning to, honey," Tom replied almost lovingly. "Avada Kedavra!"

The bright green light that erupted from the wand's tip illuminated the girl's astonished face and her body fell over the rampart.

"And I used to love her…" Tom said sadly, looking down.

"Well, at least now I'm sure that love is meaningless in this world and it is not worth wasting my efforts on it."

XXX

…She came to him late at night; straight from her mission. She smelled like blood and death.

"My Lord, we did it!" she said smiling broadly. "We killed them!"

He nodded, while looking at her bowing figure in front of him. The woman had long black hair that was falling in luscious waves on her black cloak. Her pale face was glowing like a moon in the dark sky.

"Stand up, Mary," he said. "You've brought me good news".

Mary Elizabeth Raimonda Cleopatra Altrades-Valua de Pon du Lac kept looking at her Master with eyes full of eternal love.

"Lord Voldemort is generous to those who serve him," the Dark Lord continued. "What is it that you want?"

Her huge eyes became even bigger; never before had anybody witnessed such passion, and it was about to swallow the beautiful female. And Lord Voldemort.

"My Lord, there is nothing I want from you…"

At that point she staggered and Voldemort finished the sentence for her.

"Except?"

"Except your love!" she cried and boldly looked into his completely black eyes with red sparks.

"I'm not capable of love," the Dark Lord replied somewhat uncertain.

He had always thought that way, ever since he was a child and up until this very moment. He used to think that he could not love, that love was only an obstacle on his way to his great aim. But now, this dark-haired Death Eater appeared in his thoughts more and more often. He was worried when she left for her missions, and he was relieved when she came back without a scratch. He enjoyed simply watching her, talking to her. He preferred her company above every other soul.

She caught that trace of doubt in his voice.

"You're just afraid to believe yourself," she said, coming closer and closer to him. "You don't have to be afraid".

With one swift motion, she disposed of her black cloak, standing in very short and elegant dress, which was clearly showing off her big breasts.

"Kiss me, baby," she murmured.

XXX

"Noooooooo!" the Dark Lord screamed … and woke up.

Coiled beside her master's bed in a circle of muscles, Nagini hissed unhappily. Voldemort booed at the hissing creature and Nagini decided to slither away, clearly showing Voldemort how much he had hurt her feelings.

The Dark Lord, however, had much more important issues at hand. For many nights in a row he had been having very weird and disturbing dreams with himself as the main character. The situations he would find himself in were so dorky and idiotic that one could only laugh at them. And laugh he did. On the first night. On the third night this funny business was becoming everything but funny. After one whole week of it, Lord Voldemort started suspecting that it was all being done with an ulterior motive.

There was some kind of movement behind the closed doors. The loyal Death Eaters gathered together to see for themselves what had happened to their Lord.

"Well, come on in!" said the Dark Lord un-Voldermort-ishly shaky.

Malfoy came forward first. "Milord, what happened?"

"This is the umpteenth night when you wake up screaming madly," Snape supported Malfoy.

"Because every night I dream of some horrendously, moronic baloney!" Lord Voldemort snapped, frustrated. "And if I find out who is at fault…"

"Maybe Potter?" offered Snape.

"Why Potter?" asked Malfoy the Potions Master quietly.

"Because Potter is always at fault," Snape answered.

"Stop whispering!" the angry Dark Lord demanded. "You better find out who's at fault, or you'll be at fault! And you better do it fast!"

The Death Eaters retired very quickly, and the Dark Lord laid himself onto his pillows tiredly.

"Salazar," he moaned, "if it is Potter, then where the hell did he get such imagination to make all that shit up?"

XXX

"I've had enough!" Harry Potter slammed his fist on the table making all the parchments fly around the room.

"But Harry," Hermione looked into his eyes. "We cannot abandon our plan to demoralize Voldemort at this stage."

"I don't know about Voldemort, but I've already cranked, " Harry slammed his fist on the table once again.

"Voldemort sees all those things through our mental link, but it's **me** who has to read it!" He waved a single piece of parchment in front of Hermione's eyes and she could make out some words that were written there. "… and the before unseen passion turned the Dark Lord's cold heart into…"

"How have they managed to write so much?" Ron murmured, looking through the papers. "It's one thing that this muggle, Rowling, wrote about us; it's a completely different thing that she caused others to write much more bullshit that involves us too! But this…," and suddenly Ron blushed. Hermione shot him a quick look and took away the paper stack he was holding tightly in his hands.

"Harry," Hermione began talking, "let's discuss what you're going to read next. I found a wonderful fanfic about Luna who went to Voldemort to teach him how to love…"

Ron clutched his head, but Harry had read even worse than that.

"What about the fanfics where you were teaching Transfiguration to Voldemort, seen any, huh, Hermione?"

This time, it was Hermione who blushed.

"I've found a fanfic where I traveled in time to rehabilitate Voldemort…"

"And then?" Ron asked tensely.

"And then I married him," Hermione, quietly, whispered.

"No," Harry said, "we don't need fanfics like that. He might take it as a guidance to act upon."

"All right," Hermione agreed, "I have loads of fanfics about Voldemort and Bellatrix, let's try those."

"Could I, you know, take a break or something?" Harry groaned. "Sometimes, I must sleep too!"

Nobody from the Golden Gryffindor Trio noticed the fat rat that was hiding in the dark corner. As soon as Harry went to bed and Ron and Hermione left the room, the rat, quickly, dove back into the rat's hole between the floor and the wall, blessing Grimmauld Place's owner's laziness.

XXX

"So, it really is Potter," spoke the Dark Lord, while walking in circles in front of his loyal followers.

They were tensely quiet. Since there was no one else who offered any solution to the current situation, the Dark Lord started thinking himself.

"I could kill Potter … but it is still impossible to get to him now," he said, thinking out loud. "I could use Occlumency … but it seems that both I and Potter are already immune to it. I could…"

"We could turn the enemy's weapon against him, my Lord," Snape offered willingly.

"Meaning?" The all-powerful, famous, and brilliant Dark Lord was not intelligent enough to catch it.

"These so-called fanfics are not only about you, my Lord. And your mental link works both ways…"

XXX

Harry Potter woke up in cold sweat, still not fully believing that his vision had only been a dream and that it never actually happened. He blindly fumbled around, being afraid to actually stumble upon Snape, but he could only feel the parchments, which were lying everywhere.

"I must have dreamt that shit," Harry murmured, as he tried to get back to sleep.

"Tough luck, Potter!" the darkness laughed with the voice of the Head of the Slytherin House.

Pleasantly smiling, Lord Voldemort took another parchment.

"What Potter did not count on," he told Snape," is that there are much more fanfics about him than me. Am I right, Severus?"

Snape nodded.

_'It's such a good thing that I have no mental connection to the both of them,_" Snape though, relieved, "_so__ I have no need to read that._"

XXX


End file.
